The Beginning of the Day
by Calico45
Summary: It all started the day he got lost in the forest... But that was back when Alfred was a kid! He has been through so much by now, enough to know that his family is different than others, him especially, but is it so bad for him to want to act human?
1. Prologue

The Beginning of the Day

Prologue

Short, labored breaths filled the open air as worry stained emerald eyes darted around the forest foliage surrounding them.

"Alfred!" the voice mirrored the anxious emeralds as they scanned further into the growing darkness.

All around the searcher only silence rested—dead silence. It chilled his core more than the hiding sun and the heart beating out of his own chest. A shiver of fear ripped through his body, running up and down his spine. He had to do something. He had to find his baby brother. Alfred was alone in the woods and it was getting dark. It had been a bitter autumn that year, so he knew the moment the sun was no longer in the sky it would seem like winter. Dark, cold, and alone: those were the only three words that he could describe Alfred with at the moment and it quite literally pushed him over the edge.

It had started off as a normal enough day, with him watching his younger siblings with his stepbrother, Francis, in their spacious backyard. The numerous kids zigzagged about in the fenced in "wilderness," enjoying all the colors of fall with every excited sprint and cry. Although all the kids played together, they had split off into their normal groups. The younger kids, Peter and Charlotte, played in a pile of leaves with Estelle. The three sets of twins had broken off from each other due to their dramatically different energy levels. Lovino, the elder of the oldest set of twins, had the older of the youngest set, Jett, on his heels, begging him to play ball with him. Lovino merely hissed something in Italian and motioned for Jett to bug his younger brother, Charles, who was quietly playing with Lovino's younger twin, Feliciano, and the older twin of the middle set, Matthew, on the sidewalk. When Jett persisted, he was finally aided by Alfred, the younger twin of Matthew, as he flew out of the bushes with a bright red blanket meant to be a cape tied around his shoulders. Alfred's sky blue eyes shined with mischief as he claimed that Jett would have far more fun with Charles, while boring Lovino was playing with him. Jett protested, but the golden-haired child's charisma quickly won him over. Little did he know then that the moment Jett joined Charles this event was set in motion.

"Arthur! Have you found him yet?" cried a voice, which he recognized to be Francis, breaking the silence and his recollection.

Arthur shuddered and hissed, "If I had we would be home!"

Francis sighed in response. Usually his brother's snappy remarks would cause a fight to break out, but neither could afford the leisure at the moment.

"Have our parents come home?" Arthur asked at last, his voice a shaky whisper.

Francis nodded, "Father has driven off to the far side just in case while Allistor split the older siblings into groups and are scouring as we speak—I was assigned to you, by the way. Mother is at home with the rest of us. Everyone is sick with worry. Lovino thinks it is his fault even, since he was the one who agreed to the idea."

Arthur nodded slowly. As soon as Lovino came home at dusk saying that he had lost Alfred he had started to comb the woods immediately himself. No one was supposed to have gone into to woodlands because of the animals and its sheer size, but especially not kids as young as Alfred, who was only six. Arthur cursed under his breath. His little brother was usually obedient as long as he was being watched, but as soon as the observer's back was turned his impulses drowned out anything that resembled the rules. He and Francis had both known, meaning this was their fault. No, Francis was a lazy idiot: this was his fault.

"It is not our fault, Arthur." Francis spoke, reading his companion's face.

"You are right for once, it is all mine." he whispered, hugging himself before shaking it off, "But that does not matter now; we have to find him!"

Francis managed a hopeful grin as they both raced forward, calling out for the lost child. The grass crunched beneath their feet as the wind was picking up. Arthur hazarded a glance at the sun and his heart sank. It was nearly gone. His cries got louder and more frantic, any calmness he had pieced together from Francis's presence and words completely shattered. Francis was placed further on edge, matching his stepbrother.

"Come on, Francis, hurry up!" screamed Arthur, pulling ahead in desperation.

"Oh, Alfred, where have you gone…" sighed Francis, imagining the child in his natural environment, sunlight, as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.


	2. Chapter 1

The Beginning of the Day

Chapter 1, Slipped Up

"Arthur! That is not fair!" hissed his fitful, squirming charge.

"It cannot be helped, Alfred." Arthur sighed, watching the child with slight amusement.

It had been years since the day that Alfred was lost in the woods, but he was still watched like a hawk for it and all the other little instances. After all, this was Alfred Kirkland, troublemaker extraordinaire. He was both a nightmare and a dream to all the sitters. His charisma and cheeriness adored, but his demands and tendency for accidents dreaded. His family was affected just the same, except worse, now that the growing boy had a rebellious side.

"Screw that, Artie! You know better than anyone that I can handle a simple sleepover." the boy continued, with intensity.

Arthur shook his head, "There is nothing I can do, lad, even if I wanted to. Besides, the rule holds for all of us, not just you."

"Yeah, yeah... Kind of like how you sleep over at Vlad's house all the time." Alfred growled, crossing his arms in defiance.

"You know very well that is different. Our families are very close. If you wanted to sleep at the Braginski's, Wang's, or Beilshmight's you very well could, but you do not. You want to sleep over at a random friend's house and we do not even know the address!" Arthur chided.

"But I will have my cell phone on me at all times and you have even met him." Alfred persisted with groan.

"I have?" Arthur asked, dumbfounded.

Alfred was not exactly unpopular among the students at their shared school. In fact, it was a running joke that one little boy literally _had _to be beaten off with a stick. Nevertheless, as student council president, Arthur prided himself on knowing absolutely every student, so he had assumed the friend Alfred talked about went to a separate school. That, too, was common since he would walk up and talk to strangers like he had known them his whole life—and somehow they always seemed to act that way back. It had always unnerved Arthur.

"Yep, and you still said it was better that I not get to go when Mom and Dad asked. See, he is not some random stranger." Alfred continued, his argument getting stronger.

Arthur shook his head at this, "It does not matter. We still do not really know him, and even if we did, this rule is here to protect, not only you, but all of us."

Alfred rolled his dulling eyes at this. He knew he was in for it now and he was better off to just take off. This was Arthur Kirkland after all, prefect extraordinaire. Although he was cool and composed usually, he was a complete stickler for the rules and would fly off the handle into hours long lectures with ease. In short, he could Alfred's worst enemy. What was worse is that he had heard this exact lecture countless times before. It was important he knew, but why could he not just live a little?

Arthur stood quietly waiting for the blazing retort to start his rant, but it did not come. Instead, Alfred's energetic eyes had not only dulled, but completely glazed over as he zoned out. Arthur was caught a little off guard by this. Admittedly, it was not that strange. Alfred had a tendency to wonder and would usually let the words fly out of his mouth as soon as they entered his brain, but at other times he would completely freeze as if to have an internal conversation with himself. This usually meant he had something insightful he contemplating, or something he was far too caught up with.

"Alfred?" Arthur whispered at last, bringing the child out of his trance, "What were you thinking, lad?"

Alfred scrunched up his nose as he remembered exactly what situation he was in, but shrugged it away, "Nothing."

Arthur felt a vein pop out of his forehead as he stared the child down with fiery emeralds, "Do not lie."

Since that annoying rebellious side appeared Alfred would stop saying what he was thinking after a pause. Suddenly every word that did not fly off his tongue was private and had to be locked in Fort Knox. It drove Arthur crazy that the child that had once clung to him and told him every little thought that popped into his head was now hiding stuff from him. It almost made him nauseous how much he regretted tuning out the child back then.

Alfred moved on as if Arthur had never said anything in the first place, "Well since we clearly are not getting anywhere with this, where is Allistor?"

"Why on earth do you need to speak to Allistor?" Arthur managed through gritted teeth, inwardly cursing the oldest brother.

"He tends to see my point of view." Alfred admitted honestly.

And it was true that Allistor had a personality and experiences more similar to Alfred's than anyone else's, even his own twin brother could not compete. That had made them close, especially in the recent years. While Alfred's rebelliousness pushed everyone else away, it gave him something to relate to Allistor with, which sickened Arthur.

With all that suppressed sickness welling in his stomach he practically vomited his next words, "The point of view of a _runaway_?!"

Arthur immediately regretted the words that had flown out of his mouth. It was taboo to talk about either of his siblings' incidents involving their "travels," much less the younger Alfred's who had far more baggage.

Through his hand cupped around his mouth Arthur gasped out soft words, "I am so sorry, Alfred."

Alfred's face had twisted through several emotions since his elder brother's outburst and was now blank. Alfred was anything but emotionless, so this chilled Arthur to the very core.

"A-Alfred?" he began tentatively, taking a step towards him with his panic rising, "Are you okay?!"

"Yes."

"G-good, I thought—"

"No Arthur, about Allistor, yes."

"What are you—"

"He has the point of view of a runaway, too."

When the simple, but earth-shattering words left Alfred's mouth, as emotionless as his face, he left Arthur alone to his own thoughts as he searched out the eldest brother. Arthur merely stood, shocked, in the room he now recognized as the living room. He had been so preoccupied with Alfred that he had not notice that they had left the kitchen after the discussion with their parents over the sleepover. Arthur's whole body began to quake. Although he could now hear his mother's movements in the kitchen, she was washing dishes, and his father's hearty snores coming from down the hall he could not feel more all. Privacy was a rare and valued thing in this overcrowded house, so having the living room all to one's self was an unusual treat, but all Arthur wanted was to chase after Alfred. Yet he could not make himself move.

Alfred sighed internally, watching the dry grass sway in the wind. Maybe he had been too honest with Arthur? Alfred himself thought it was better than being angry and flying off the handle like Arthur had done. Sometimes it was better when emotions failed, after all, the truth stood on its own—but the truth hurt. Alfred knew that better than anyone, which was why that, as honest as he was, he always has a self-conscious debate over how he presented himself. Although he was only fourteen, he was complex, and found that some lies held just as much truth to them, if not more, than the truth itself. At least that is what he thought when he presented himself to the world as a bubbly teenager that worked on impulses and whims and never thought too much about life's or people's inner workings. He _wanted_ to be positive and optimistic. He refused to let negativity and impossibilities bring him down, that would do nothing for anybody.

"Life is not going to be any better if you frown at it…" he muttered his motto, smirking deep in thought.

He may have not been naturally pessimistic either, but he was not immune to the darker thoughts in life. If he ever showed his serious self, not true because he considered all aspects of himself his true self, it would end up with something like this with Arthur. People could not accept that he had grown up or be anything but his positive, childish, and spoiled self; although he always found himself wondering exactly how childish and spoiled he really was when he was only being playful by pouting and whining. Taking life too seriously could drag someone to the bottom of a pit just as easily and negativity, so having fun was just as important as being positive. With that in mind Alfred decided to complete his image, with a bit of a "misunderstanding barrier." Alfred was intelligent and clever, he could pick up on all the social cues, even the ones that others wished to hide, but he ignored them. He also played the class clown while studying. Everyone was sure he got straight Cs. The more ignorant they thought he was, the more he could get away with. He had never meant to take advantage of it; he merely called it payback for their obliviousness. He never once had any intentions to start a useless brawl under any circumstances.

But now, here he was, sitting in his backyard and staring at the cerulean sky lying softly above the autumn forest because he had slipped up. The scenery was just like the day he and Lovino had decided to go into the woods alone. He pursed his lips at the memory, ready for another internal debate to grip him—sheesh, he was thoughtful today! It made his head hurt and he could already feel his seriousness starting to pull him towards the pit. He shook his head and smiled a genuine smile.

"Not today…"he whispered, getting up off the ground he had once rested on.

"Then when, laddie?"

Alfred kicked himself internally for not paying attention, but his smile grew wider nonetheless before turning to the red-haired man behind him.

"I haven't the slightest clue what you are rambling about, Scottie." Alfred chuckled affectionately at the nickname, gazing into his green eyes, slightly darker than Arthur's emeralds.

"Nor I, but I had heard you wanted to see me." Allistor answered haphazardly taking Alfred's old seat and pulling out a carton of cigarettes, "Yell if ye see Mom."

Alfred nodded, hiding all the thoughts and emotions swirling through his mind. It had to have been Arthur to tell Allistor, but why he had no clue. It might have been out of guilt, or shock maybe. Either way Allistor had probably seen Arthur as a pale ghost. Alfred was not particularly afraid of Allistor lecturing him, quite the opposite actually. He had made it well known that he was a devil growing up and had made sure Arthur was miserable, thus he had no room to criticize. However, Alfred was a whole other story. When stuff like this happened Allistor knew better than anyone that another swell of confusion and rebellion had risen up in the teen, and lest it grow in power it needed attention—all night if necessary. Sometimes Alfred just did not want to talk, and this was one of those times. The subject was a little too sore and he knew too little about his own feelings. Nevertheless, he knew because of Arthur's reaction, that there was not a chance of getting out of this one.

"Lad, I am not Arthur. I will not go as pale as he. Now speak." Allistor breathed through puffs on the cigarette.

Alfred rolled his eyes, but still managed a grin. Talking to Allistor did make him feel better, though he would rather die than admit it on certain occasions.

"We lost our tempers with each other—well, more like he lost his and I let my honesty slip." Alfred corrected himself, rubbing his neck sheepishly, "And then he got quiet and I just left."

Allistor nodded, his cigarette resting in between his teeth, "And this conversation was about?"

"I wanted to sleepover at a friend's house and when I asked Mom and Dad Arthur had been with them and they asked his opinion. He said I should stay home and they agreed. Of course I did not like it, and I tried to convince Artie to tell them otherwise. I mean he met the guy for goodness sake! And one thing turned into another before I asked where you were so I could talk to you about it. Then Arthur asked why and I said I was asking you because we had a similar point of view. That is when he snapped and asked 'the point of view of a _runaway_.'" Alfred explained clearly with various hand gestures throughout the long speech.

After a pause passing between the two Allistor began, "Then?"

"Then what?" Alfred asked simply.

"What did ye say to him?"

At this Alfred froze, "Yes."

The air suddenly turned a little colder as the wind swept by. Alfred's voice had been the same one he used on Arthur, even the face was matching.

"Yes? Ye said 'yes' to what, exactly?" Allistor grumbled before he quickly caught up after the surprise of Alfred's coldness since even his serious side was not emotionless.

With a smack to his face Allistor sighed, "You just had to say that. He just had to bring it up, too. It is all taboo in this house for a reason."

Alfred's face softened as mild annoyance and exhaustion spread across Allistor's. He pitied his older brother at times like this. Unlike Alfred, sometimes Allistor regretted running away. Admittedly, Alfred regretted hurting his family, but he would never regret what he did and would do it all over again if he had to. Allistor usually felt that same way, but not always. Alfred had a sneaking suspicion he regretted it more often before Alfred had been there to share in his revelry. What was more is that Allistor was the oldest of them all, next to their parents of course. He had to be an example and watch over everyone else, and when they remembered the scars he had left when he ran away it was difficult. That side of Allistor only he could understand.

"I know. I slipped up, but I cannot say I truly regret it. I like being truthful, even when it hurts." Alfred admitted.

"That is because you are an honest boy…" Allistor stated, standing up and dropping his cigarette before stomping it and grinding it into the ground, "And I know it hurts you to not be honest, to have to debate on how honest you can allow yourself to be, but we have to be strong for ourselves and our family. I value honestly myself and you know as well as I do I never would come out here and kick you around over Artie unless you did this stuff on purpose—even then I would have to do some serious internal debating. Nevertheless, we have to protect them by never touching their scars, even when they are prodding ours. That is what we both signed up for when we came home. Of course, you knew that, though, I just felt I had to say it."

Alfred grinned, "I know, and I am kind of glad you did—not that it changes anything. After all, this family is different, us even more so. I mean, what kind of family does not allow their kids to leave?!"

"One that has all their lives resting on the knowledge of their existence, though we would never tell, of course. They know that and it hurts them even worse knowing that we would, and will, die first." Allistor answered, returning Alfred's previous grin.

Alfred shook his head at that, his face falling, "I know, but it just seems so messed up. I mean, even if we are abnormal we can pull off a good life and letting fear cage us in is the same as letting the government do it."

"I agree, laddie." Allistor whispered before a droplet of water hit the back of his neck.

Alfred jumped when he felt the same and stared up into the once blue sky now suffocated with dark, black clouds. He then smirked as the rain at once began pouring down.

"This has been way too serious, Scottie. I mean, even you could not hold it in this time." Alfred chuckled.

Allistor nodded slowly before finally cracking a smile again, "Well, standing here all day will get us nothing but colds. Let's head back."


	3. Chapter 2

The Beginning of the Day

Chapter 2, Privacy

"Allistor!" cried a woman that looked very much like him, running out of the kitchen at the sight of her son, "I look out one minute and there is not a cloud in the sky and now a monsoon threatens my evening plans. It is breaking news and people expect flooding."

Allistor shrugs at this, walking into the room dripping wet with Alfred by his side, "You know how fickle Mother Nature is, Mom."

Her head shakes at this as she then notices Alfred. Her cat green eyes scan him up and down before turning back to Allistor.

"Lucky for you, all of your siblings made it home before the surprise storm. If any one of them, or _you_, catches a cold, however, your luck will have run out. Now go get dressed, both of you, and do not drip all over my house!" their mother commanded, storming back off into the kitchen before a chorus of clinking pots and pans fill their ears.

"What is eating her?" Alfred teased, smirking at Allistor before galloping through the living room and up the stairs to where his and Matthew's bedroom waited.

"Something about wanting to visit the neighbors…" Allistor mumbled, half tauntingly but all the words guiltlessly truthful.

Alfred paused looking over the banister, his face scrunching into one of partial annoyance, "You have got to be kidding me."

Allistor shook his head, sighing. Normally he would be smirking, but he felt Alfred's pain all too well at the moment. The boy had no desire to see the neighbors after such a serious conversation; he barely wanted to see Matthew. Not only did Allistor know, but he shared the same sentiments. Besides, he was quite a bit older than the other neighboring children. He did not have nearly as close relationships with them like the others, but he was close nonetheless, he admitted to himself begrudgingly. It suddenly it hit him that Alfred was still there, staring over the banister, waiting for Allistor to process his thoughts.

"No, lad." he managed at last, rubbing the back of his neck with a sorrowful shake of his head, "No running tonight. It may already be cancelled, but if they come over I will take it and so will you. After all, you are quite close with everybody."

Alfred snorted at this, "All the more reason I am going crazy right now. I need some privacy…"

With that remark Alfred slowly made his way down the staircase to the spot right back in front of Allistor. He paused there a few moments, eyeing his older brother, who remained still as Allistor watched his every move. At once their stare was broken as Alfred hurried away from the living room and into a small hallway by the staircase. There he slipped into a chestnut door that led to yet another winding staircase—but this one to the basement.

The house was a large one despite being packed with people, so it naturally contained a few things, the basement being one of them along with an attic and many bedrooms. The basement, however, was unlike most of the house in that people hardly ever visited it. In a house as crammed as this one, it could provide some sanctity of peace. However, that was only if one could overcome the paranoia of the atmosphere. Simply put, it was creepy. The basement had a past with black magic; a pentagram was hidden by the once crimson rug that lay in the middle of the concrete room. All around that the walls were lined with shelves containing books on top of books. On top of that the only light in the room was an old ceiling lamp that would not turn on half of the time. This was not a place for the faint of heart.

That was exactly what Allistor thought as he watched Alfred slip down into its dark depths. His breath hitched a little when he took a step forward. He shook his head, freeing it of his previous intention to follow the boy. Alfred was strong. He was admittedly a, for lack of a better term, "scardy cat" when it came to horror, especially ghosts, but he was brave. If it came between him and a ghost he would run for the hills, but if it came between him, a ghost, and anyone else the ghost had better watch out because the hero would save the day—even if it killed him. With that final thought the all too familiar confident smirk once again rested on Allistor's lips. Very well, the boy wanted to be alone and deserved his time. He had done his duty to both Alfred and the family; everything was up to him now. He chanced a glance up the stairs, eyeing the empty hallway. There was always more to be done though.

"Alfred?" a voice whispered in its usual tone, peering into the depths below.

"Matthew?" came the reply, "What are you doing?"

Matthew shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, "It was getting late and I was worried, so I asked around to see where you were and Allistor told me."

A sigh was heard from the darkness and Matthew continued, "Is the light not working today? I cannot say I am surprised with the monsoon and all—was it you guys that called it?"

"Allistor just got a little worked up is all and yeah, the light will not turn on." the hidden boy answered, shuffling about.

By this point Matthew figured he would have to descend the steps himself and into the unappealing dark, but to his surprise Alfred made his way halfway up the wooden staircase, just close enough for the light seeping past Matthew to illuminate his features. It was almost like looking into a mirror really. The only real difference between the two were their hair and eyes: Matthew's hair was longer and had a spiral curl while Alfred had shorter hair with an untamable cowlick; their eyes were both blue, but while Alfred's was painted like the sky Matthew had more of an indigo hue, that honestly looked violet half the time. The two stared at their mirror reflections for a moment before something finally donned on Matthew.

"Alfred! You are soaking wet, and it is freezing down here!" the quiet twin snapped, suddenly furious.

Alfred chuckled sheepishly, "Yeah, Mom told me to change, but I kind of forgot."

Matthew was about to start on him again when he saw his brother pause, staring off into space. It made Matthew's heart sink. Nevertheless, he had to say it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" the twin breathed hopefully, watching as his brother was knocked out of his stupor before the all too familiar act started before him.

"Oh, it is nothing important, Mattie!" the younger twin laughed, glancing back into the darkness, "I just, _really_ needed some alone time."

Matthew sighed at long last and proceeded forward as if he had not even uttered the futile words, "Well we need to get you out of those clothes. Come back to the room."

Alfred walked all the way up to his brother with a smile firmly in place, "Sure, Bro."

Little did Alfred notice that Matthew was eyeing him the entire time Alfred stared into the black before he actually closed the basement door and bounded up in front of his twin.

"Come on, Mattie!" Alfred taunted, turning his back and dashing up the steps and into their shared room.

With his ears safely out of range Matthew let lose the words he had held for so long, "I thought you hated the basement…"

"Why do I have to wear this crap again?" Alfred complained, squirming in the foreign clothing he had been forced into.

Matthew sighed as he watched his younger brother twitch under the itchy fabric like it had been a punishment.

"It was Francis's or Arthur's clothes, because mine was in the wash, too. And you did not want to bother Arthur, so…" Matthew explained, looking his twin up and down, "And do not even complain about how flashy it is. You usually look flashy anyway."

"That is just because I look good in everything." Alfred huffed, scratching and squirming as if he had fleas, "But this is beyond flashy, Mattie, this is… is… Crazy, that is what it is."

A small smile tugged at Matthew's lips. In all honesty, he actually agreed with Alfred who was now glowering at his vermillion clad appearance. The clothes themselves were simple, but there was an intricate design of monochrome red. Solid color outfits seemed to be in fashion at the moment, with only differing hues permitted. That was not Alfred, who loved splashes of color when he wanted to be flamboyant. Nevertheless, his one utter goal when it came to clothing was to be comfortable. It was the exact opposite of Francis's current and usual wardrobe.

"If you look good in everything then this is no problem." Matthew countered, walking up his younger brother to further inspect him, "Plus it does actually look good on you. Red is one of your colors."

"Red, white, and blue all the way, Mattie." he hissed hotly under his breath as he began to pout.

Now Matthew began to laugh a little, "I know, I know. It is a shame that the rain came though. I was looking forward to seeing everybody and you would not be sulking."

Alfred did not even honor the last few words with a remark, but he still responded, "I did not realize we were even meeting today. I was way too preoccupied with trying to sleep over at a friend's house—which I still need to worry about! I forgot all about it after a while. Crap. At this rate, Allistor cannot even help me."

At this Matthew automatically paled before face palming and eventually working his way into a rage, his brother ignoring his progressing steps as he tried to formulate some plan of action.

"Al, you know better!" Matthew snapped, "Why are you asking something that is doomed to be rejected in the first place?"

"Tch! You are just like Artie, Matt!" Alfred growled, sick of fighting the same battle that he had earlier that day, the same war he fought on daily basis, "I know we are different, abnormal, freaks of nature, but is it really so much to ask to ignore that for once? I just want to sleep over at a friend's house. I am not asking to use my abilities at all, much less in public, so no one would have a reason to kidnap me and turn me into a research subject overnight—and even if they did, I would never rat you guys out! You are my family."

Matthew began to shake, whether or not it was with anger, sadness, fear, or a mix neither of the two knew. He reached his arms out to his brother, who was sitting upon his bed, glaring holes into his reflection.

"A-Alfred." Matthew called, a little shakily, grasping his brother by the arms and sitting beside him, "I am sorry you cannot do what everyone else can. I wish I could be normal and do those things, too. But we are not normal, and we have to protect ourselves. We know you would rather die than hurt anyone, so we only do this because you have to be protected, too. We do not know what we would do if something happened to you."

At first Alfred's eyes reflected sadness and regret, but it dissipated into another emotionless stare.

"The world would go on, Mattie." he whispered, the words as cold as ice.

Then Matthew began to tremble again, because he knew Alfred meant every word and every emotion he had seen earlier was only the regret of actually revealing this and upsetting Matthew.


	4. Chapter 3

The Beginning of the Day

Chapter 3, Open Window

"Bloody—Francis!" echoed the cry throughout the hollow house.

It was deep within the evening now, and all of the corners of the usually crowded house had been emptied due to the declining sun. Now every person rested in their usual room. All except for Arthur at least.

"Where are you, you sniveling frog!" he hissed, stomping down the lengthy halls.

Although one would think this would cause for alarm, it was actually quite common for this kind of behavior between the two. As long as it quieted before the sun actually set it was usually left alone or observed for amusement. With the rain from earlier, a sleepy mood had settled upon the house and most found it difficult to leave their beds to become the audience. One managed to however.

"Arthur? Are you okay?" came the voice, as soft as a whisper.

Arthur turned on his heels with a jump. He had not seen the door open, much less the young man step out, and it certainly did not help that he looked just like Alfred.

"Matthew, do not scare me like that!" he growled under his breath, holding his chest as he took deep breaths.

"Sorry." The boy mumbled, but was undeterred, "What has Francis done now? He was helping me earlier, but I have not seen him since…"

Arthur's head tilted at this, a little thoughtful, "I thought you were with Alfred?"

"Ah!" the boy blushed a little, rubbing his neck similarly to his twin, "He did not change his clothes when he got in, the twit, and he apparently did not have any ready so we had to borrow some from Francis."

Arthur was about to protest this before he caught himself. Usually Alfred would call on him for favors like this, or at least Matthew would know to take Alfred's problems to him, but if they were in the middle of a fight this normality was suspended. Clearly, this was not going to blow over anytime soon, and the thought made Arthur's heart sink a little before he remembered his bubbling jealousy.

"Matthew, he is wearing Francis's clothes? Are you kidding me!? We have no clue where that man has been—much less with whom!" Arthur ranted, suddenly flying off on tangents of how the clothes would never be safe to wear after Francis had worn them, since no one could decontaminate that kind of waste.

Matthew sighed, despite finding this mildly entertaining. He never quite understood why Arthur and Francis just could not get along. Nobody could, really. The stepbrothers were what most women would refer to as "frenemies." The word made Matthew chuckle a little. It had been Alfred that deemed them as such, after Charlotte forced him to watch several termed "chick flicks" with her. Alfred had nearly slit his throat from boredom, but he never once complained to his little sister and even managed to dig out something useful from all that wasted time to bug their older brothers with. Francis had accepted the title without much resistance, but Arthur hated it like he hated the nicknames Alfred gave him. Of course, that only made both Alfred and Francis like it even more.

Arthur was finally finishing his rant when something struck him, "He has not fallen ill, has he?"

It took Matthew a minute for him to register Arthur's question before he smiled softly, "Not that I know of, but he went into the cold basement dripping wet and was down there for quite some time. It would not surprise me."

A pang of guilt ripped through Arthur as he sneered, "And Allistor just let him, did he not?"

Matthew nodded, before shaking his head, "I m-mean, he let him, but it was Al's choice all along. It is not like he could, or even should, have stopped him."

Arthur shook his head at this, "No, he could have and should have. It is his job as an older brother—mine, too."

Matthew dropped it at this. He knew he could not change Arthur's mind on this, even if Matthew reminded him that he was also Alfred's older brother and that would mean three people were responsible for the younger's thoughtless actions. He knew in Arthur's mind he was usually excused because of how meek his personality and how close in age to Alfred he was, but he held himself and Allistor to a far higher standard. In fact, he held everyone that was not Lovino's age or younger to this high standard of his. Although Matthew understood his reasoning of having the older kids watch the younger ones and try to be good examples, he could not agree with it. They were all young and they made mistakes, even Arthur. Speaking of which…

"What are you and Al fighting about now?" Matthew voiced, his tone a little louder than usual as he tried to feel out the specifics.

Arthur visibly paled at this, "We both said some things we should not have. He just would not give up over that bloody sleepover…"

Matthew grimaced at the mere mention of said topic. Alfred had even fought with him over it; he was really stubborn when he wanted to be.

"I honestly doubt he will…" Matthew sulked, chancing a glance at the closed door he came from.

Arthur caught the message loud and clear before sighing softly, "I never meant to betray him, but our parents are right. If any one of us is caught then there will be hell to pay. I wish he could just leave it at that… but that does not excuse my actions. May I apologize to him?"

Matthew winced at the hurt in Arthur's emerald eyes. He figured the fight had been rough, but maybe it was worse than he had expected. If that were true he highly doubted that they could forgive each other so quick, but Arthur was not always the quickest to apologize. At least it would be laid on the table for now, but he _really_ did not need a moody younger twin on his hands.

"Fine…" he breathed tentatively, moving towards the door and grasping the cold handle, "Al, I am coming in!"

The door hit the bedroom wall with a bang, but Matthew did not even notice at this point, "Al!?"

"What is it!?" cried Arthur, shoving his way into the room and taking a step back when he did, mouth agape.

Matthew and Alfred's bedroom looked like a tornado hit it, possibly worse. All of their things were thrown all over the floor, their beds were overturned, and there were large gashes in the walls that had to have all happened in the timespan of not even a twenty minute conversation. There had not been any noise either, and a scene like this was bound to make more than a little noise.

"Where is Alfred?" was the first question Matthew could form as he scanned the disheveled room frantically, his eyes landing on the open bedroom window.

He rushed over to it immediately and babbled, "He couldn't have, eh? He just could not have jumped down two stories! Even he is not that much of an idiot. Al, Al, where are you Al?!"

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and bit out, "He is not here, Matthew! He had to go out the window; we would have seen him otherwise."

Despite the response, Arthur could hardly believe himself either. This was just too weird, even in a family full of people with supernatural abilities, and he really hoped Alfred would have enough sense not to jump out of a window.

"A-Allistor!" he croaked at last, racking his brain further, "He would be the only one that knows!"

Matthew looked up at him, a dim shine of hope shine of hope glinting in his eyes. If Alfred did this Allistor _would _be the only one that would know why. But why did that not stop the sinking feeling in Matthew's stomach? Maybe because he knew better, knew that his twin may be stupid, or brave, enough to jump out a window but not without a good cause—or with leaving the room trashed with the sun sinking over the horizon. The sun!

"It is getting dark." Matthew choked out, glancing back at the window nervously, "We have to hurry and find him or else—"

"Or else nothing," Arthur cut him off, "I will not let him disappear again. Not by choice or otherwise."

"B-but this is just like when he wandered into the forest! Arthur, we never found him—at least not until years later in city God knows where! And it was Allistor who found him; we need to talk to Allistor. Oh, where oh where are either of them—"

"Matthew, lad, I know you are panicking, and so am I quite frankly, but that is doing us no good." Arthur soothed, walking up to the now trembling boy and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Now I know what this seems like, that he was taken from us again, but I refuse to let that happen. Allistor is in his room, he has to be, so let us go."

Matthew nodded as Arthur began his route to the door, but whimpered, "But what if he does not want to come back this time?"

It was a simple enough question, but it set the whole atmosphere off. If talking about the misadventures of Alfred and Allistor from their days on the street were taboo, then speaking about them going back was downright blasphemous. Arthur felt his heart stop as he slowly turned around to face the boy that looked so much like the one he _needed_ to see right now.

"What?" he questioned, crisp and clear, although his breath had been knocked out of him.

Matthew's lips formed a small, sorrowful smile, "He left, Arthur. He ran away. He ran away to the outside world again just after we got him back, just when we were a family again. We got him back that time, too, but does he even want to be here? Does he even want to be with us?"

By now Matthew had tears streaming down his face and he was sobbing, though he powered through, showing strength not many knew he had, "Would he prefer a kidnapper's company to ours if only he could get away? I have wanted to ask him these questions and many more for so long, but no one does. We all avoid talking about it. I do not know why. I guess it was the precedent set with Allistor, but where has this got us? We are constantly afraid they are going to leave us again, for the outside world riddled with dangers that we could never think of facing. This is why our parents always kept us here, because one taste is all it takes to drive us crazy, or maybe just some of us, but it makes it hurt all the more to think that they will leave and we will never see them again for whatever reason. Why… Why is it like this? Why does it have to be like this? Why the heck do we have to feel like Alfred would be happier if we did not look for him, when clearly someone took him?"

Arthur had no answers to any of Matthew's questions, or any way to find the answers. Surely he could ask Allistor? No, what Matthew said was true. They did not talk about this kind of thing. Look what it did to himself and Alfred this morning, and now he and Matthew. They were utter messes. So, with no answers for Matthew or for himself, he did the only thing he could do: he took a deep breath and pulled up a shield of fake composure.

"Matthew, I do not know, but he is our brother. He belongs here with us, safe in this house, and I will be burned alive before I stand another minute here not looking for him." Arthur stated, simply and firmly, reaching his hand out to the still quaking boy.

Matthew took his hand, but was far from pacified. He was too old and too knowledgeable of his family and their ways. It was clear to him that Arthur was putting up a show, and not just for Matthew but, more importantly, for himself. If Arthur ever let himself think about things like Matthew has, he would be crippled. So, rather than think, he ignores it like it will go away, even though they both know it would not, and continues with his charade of a righteous and all-knowing big brother. Matthew knew all this and it made him want to scream; scream at Arthur; scream at Alfred; scream at everyone who allowed this stupid rift to grow because they did not have the courage to try and bridge it for fear of falling. Yet, he did not, could not, because, he too, was afraid of falling and letting anyone else do the same. So then Matthew did the only thing he could do: follow his all-knowing big brother to Allistor's room to begin their search for his missing twin.


	5. Chapter 4

The Beginning of the Day

Chapter 4, Weird

Lovino had had a weird day, plain and simple. First he woke up to his alarm clock going off at eight forty seven in the morning. Who sets an alarm for eight forty seven in the morning at all, much less on a Saturday morning? Certainly not Lovino, but just his luck, not only could he could not go back asleep, but his younger twin, Feliciano, was up and about by now, too. He had simply stared at his twin brushing his light brunette hair, carefully maneuvering around the long curl sticking right out of the side of his head, for a good ten minutes before any thoughts other than questioning who on Earth set a clock alarm to eight forty seven for any reason. And that was when it got weirder.

"Hey, Lovi?" Feliciano began, watching as his big brother started to stir through the mirror as he continued to fix his hair.

"Don't call me that!" the older boy hissed, finally on top of his senses, "And what?"

"I was just thinking… that since we are seeing the neighbors today—"

"We are what?!" Lovino cut him off, scanning him from head to toe as if he could detect a lie from his body posture.

"We are meeting up with the neighbors!" Feliciano continued excitedly, "I cannot wait to see everybody, especially since Mom said that Tino was taking care of an injured rabbit he found. I really want to see it. Do you think he will bring it?"

In all honesty, Lovino could not care less if he brought it. All he wanted to know was when this talk with their mother that supposedly happened was, because this is all certainly news to him! What was more is that surely Antonio, or even the idiot in the room, would have said something before the actual day of, but apparently not. He already felt his blood boiling, but it is not like he could really do anything about it now, so the very least he could do was get Feliciano, who was still babbling on about Tino's new rabbit, back on track.

"So what were you thinking, again?" Lovino interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose and halfway debating on hiding in the basement if the light actually worked today.

"Oh, yeah! I was thinking it would be a great idea if we blew bubbles!" Feliciano cheered, finally finishing his grooming and turning around to face his brother, "It will be a lot of fun."

Lovino could only stare at his younger brother, wondering how the heck he went to that from meeting the neighbors. Never mind. Lovino had no desire to learn the twists and turns of the death trap Feliciano called a mind. This was nothing new for his brother to do, fly from one random thing to another, but it is still freaking weird. Suddenly the basement idea was looking even more appealing. Chances are that Al would be willing to hide out with him, as they found themselves doing often, too, and Emil as well if the neighbors were coming over.

With that in mind, Lovino stood up, throwing together an outfit and getting dressed in a flash, "You go do that, Feli."

After the words left his mouth, he darted out of the room, slamming the door in the hopes of waking everyone else up in the house. He certainly had not forgotten about the whole clock thing. Someone had to have done it and all would pay for it as he slammed every door and stomped every step to Alfred and Matthew's room.

Of course, being the day it was, things were not made easy for Lovino. When he had gotten to Alfred's room he had been practically ignored. Granted, the younger teen acknowledged and greeted him, but he was far more concerned with himself. This was not all that strange actually, but what was strange was that Alfred was not sleeping in this fine Saturday. That was the only reason Lovino did not fly off the handle as Alfred babbled on and on, though he doubted it would have made much of a difference with the stubborn boy. He was so intrigued that he actually had tried to listen to the mutterings as the other boy threw on clothes and combed his hair into place.

"I cannot wait, Lovi—I mean really now! I have been cooped up here for so long, and now I finally can relieve my boredom. First we are going to a concert, not really sure whose and I really don't care at this point, and then we are heading to the lake before I crash at his place. It will be so perfect!" Alfred rambled, shoving past Lovino in a desperate attempt for the door, "Now all I have to do is get Ma to agree. Heck, Arthur has even met the guy, there is no way she can say 'no'!"

Before Lovino could say anything to the contrary, the door had been slammed in his face. Okay, now he could fume. In his rage he raided his half-brother's closet, pulling out all the clothing that even remotely looked like Alfred's. Eventually he gave up and just took it all. He had no problem with Matthew right now, but he knew better than to think he would not help Alfred when he was being punished. With that in mind, he gathered up all the garments to take them to the laundry room. He had considered destroying them, or at least dirtying them, but had settled on merely having them rewashed instead. That was mainly due to Matthew being an innocent bystander and the fact that he thought Alfred was going to get plenty of punishment from the wakeup call he was about to get.

As he walked the corridors with his load the sound of harsh voices met his ears and it brought a smile to his face. He could hear the utter frustration in Alfred's voice as he pleaded for what little freedom he desired. The only thing that made his smile get wider was when Arthur even jumped in on the bandwagon, defending their parents' choice. Although this thrilled Lovino for his revenge, he still could not help but sigh. He knew this would end up in a fight because of Arthur's lack of thought, but he was not swayed from his own revenge in the slightest.

In moments he was in laundry room on the first floor. He could hear Alfred whining from the living room by now. He knew a fight was going to happen, but it was quick to take root. Thinking about it further, another sigh escaped his lips, looking almost guiltily at the now washing laundry. Alfred was probably the sibling he was closest to, if he really thought about it. After all, they both were the more outgoing twins and they barely had an age gap. Plus, they both had one particular overbearing sibling that insisted treating them like a child because they were incredibly close to them when they were younger. Alfred's was the boy that he was now yelling at, Arthur. Lovino had a happy, go-lucky Antonio to contend with.

He shuddered at the mere thought of the older. He was probably the one that screwed up his clock now that he thought about it. With that in mind, and newfound anger resurfacing, he dragged his thoughts back to Alfred as he heard the voices quieten down. Yes, Alfred was the sibling he was closest to. He understood him in a way Feliciano never could, despite everything that had happened between them. Lovino did not even bother to wonder if Alfred thought he was his closest sibling, it did not matter after all. They understood each other in a way others could not, and Alfred had a lot of characteristics which took a lot of different people to understand. He had tried to be angry about it before, to be jealous, but he could not force himself, which was strange in of itself. Lovino had always been hot-tempered, so he had gone as far to think he was ill when he could not rouse from his apathy on the matter. However, that was not the case and he knew it. He knew he understood which was why, even now, he could not bring himself to blame Alfred for running away again, much less for seeking freedom in things such as sleepovers as he did now. The only thing that truly made Lovino angry was that he did not try to tell him. He was probably the only one to think like that though.

Suddenly, the realization of what had just happened this entire morning hit him like a pile of bricks. He had gone to Alfred's room to find a hiding companion and had ended up washing his freaking clothes! Now he was alone, and by the sound of the living room, Alfred was long gone. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Now what? Giving up after all of this would be a waste, but that left the question of what exactly to do. Alfred was probably outside, if he knew anything about the boy's habits, and that was admittedly a start. However, it was a start Lovino did not dare taking. It was a waste, he knew, but what choice did he have when faced with an undoubtedly moody teenager? The sight of a monsoon outside when Lovino finally made it to the living room confirmed his decision even more. He was not going to deal with this, especially with another weird thing, a monsoon nonetheless, to add to his list today.

With that thought, he trotted up the stairs and to his room with a newfound hope. Surely, with the weather as it was, any stupid meeting with the neighbors was called off by now. This hope, however insignificant, calmed him so much it lulled him into a sleepy state. For the first time in what seemed to be ages Lovino realized how tired he really was, and sparing a quick glare at the offending alarm clock he did the most natural thing: curled up under the soft warm covers and falling into a blissful sleep, hopefully before this day could get any weirder.

However, as Lovino found himself roused awake with the sun's rays setting, he figured out quickly he was an unlucky man. He had been gazing at the dying rays for only a moment before his sight settled on a peculiar figuring heading at a break neck pace for the woods surrounding his house. He immediately tensed at this. He had never gone near those woods since the day Alfred got lost in them; he so much as avoided looking at them. Nevertheless, he could not tear his chocolate eyes away from the flashy figure. Wait, flashy? Lovino did a double take to confirm his suspicions, but he could not think of anything else to explain it. That was Francis, or at least someone in Francis's clothes. It was just another thing for Lovino to mark on the list, apparently. As he watched the figure retreat further he felt his heart lurch, almost as if it physically hurt him to watch the figure go into the woods. Of course, that was silly. The only one he had to be afraid about going into those woods would be… Alfred.

All at once Lovino's thoughts were going a mile a minute. That _had_ to be Alfred. It all made sense. He was wearing Francis's clothing because he had taken his and Matthew's. Of course, that still did not explain why the mad man was hurdling towards the freaking woods—the ones he had gotten lost in no less. The thoughts did not have any time to process further as Alfred got further and further away. Before Lovino even knew what had happened, pain shot through his entire body as he landed feet first on the ground. He did not spare even a glance back at his now open window as he charged after Alfred.

Maybe it was the fear of losing Alfred, or maybe the pain from the fall, or possibly something entirely different that Lovino had no clue about, but for whatever reason, as Lovino chased after the younger boy it was like he was transported back to that day so long ago. He was short again and it was daylight. He could see Alfred bounding ahead of him, crying out for Lovino to hurry between excited chatter about the place he wanted to show him. Lovino could feel the exhaustion in his limbs as he chased his tireless brother, and he somewhat regretted ditching Jett, but he was curious as to what Alfred had wanted to show him. And that was him now—chasing his brother, tiring out and curious as to where he led. Nevertheless, Lovino could still only see the boy from years ago beckoning for him to hurry. Today really was a weird day.


End file.
